


Whispers in the dark

by myrish_lace



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-09 16:13:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8898910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myrish_lace/pseuds/myrish_lace
Summary: When the freighter crash-lands on Eadu, they're days away, rather than hours away, from the research station, and the crew has to spend the night on the ship. Cassian Andor wants to steer clear of Jyn Erso. So when they're stuck on the planet, landing far off course, it's a surprise when he takes her into his arms, to help her fight her nightmares.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Star Wars fanfic, so I hope it's all right! Thanks for reading and I'd love to hear what you thought!
> 
> I'm nyrish-lace-love on tumblr if you want to say hi. :)

The stolen Imperial freighter’s hardly built for comfort. So they sleep scattered across the metal floor, in whatever they can find. Bodhi has the best berth, swinging from netting, away from the cold gusts of wind at the cargo door. He tries to give it up, but Cassian insists. Told him he needed a pilot who was awake and alert. Besides, Bodhi’s easier to watch that way.

He wants to keep an eye on Jyn, too. He tells himself he doesn’t trust her, and that’s true, but there’s another unwieldy emotion underneath he’d rather not dwell on. So he rolls his jacket up under his head and settles in next to her. Her back is turned to him, which makes it easier. He listens to the rhythmic, metallic sounds of rain hitting the hull. He’s drifting off when he hears her keening.  

He shakes her shoulder, murmuring assurances, and she’s instantly awake, silent, hand on her weapon. She’s tense, but she doesn’t shrug his hand away. They’re quiet for a long moment. He can feel the heat of her skin through her shirt.

“Won’t happen again,” she mutters. “Been a long time since I…talked in my sleep.”

“You were having a bad dream. Just a dream.” He doesn’t know where this skill comes from, his ability to soothe with his voice, but he uses it now, and feels some of the tension slowly ebb from her body. 

She nods, once. He can tell she’s embarrassed. He clears his throat. “I have them too. I don’t cry out, but I wake up feeling like I can’t breathe, like I’m…”

“Suffocating. Blasted into the vacuum of space,” she finishes. He blinks, surprised. She looks at him.

“I had those in prison,” she muses, and she says it casually, off-hand, as if prison isn’t the worst place she’s spent her time, and he’s starting to believe that’s true, to regret his uncharitable thoughts about how she’s had the freedom to choose when and where to fight.

“I couldn’t make noise, drew too much unwanted attention from the guards, so I learned to go stiff, and quiet, like you, when I started awake.”

Her expression tells him she's still half-caught in the nightmare, despite her matter-of-fact tone.  He's struck by the impulse to help her, to draw her away from the dream. "Want to tall about it?"

"No, thanks."

He tries for lightness, giving her a quick smile. "Well, yours can't be worse than mine." He falters, fighting a memory of his own. "I mean - I’ve done terrible things, things I regret, to help the rebellion.” He closes his eyes briefly and remembers the informant shuddering as he shot him in the back. He’d been speaking gently to the injured man in the alley, just as he’s talking to Jyn now. He can still feel the recoil in his gut, and the sickening dead weight as the body slumped to the ground. The man was holding him back, limiting his escape routes. It was the right strategic move, he knew that, knows it still, but when he opens his eyes they’re full of tears all the same.

Jyn does the last thing he expects - she shows him kindness.

Her green eyes are luminous in the dark and she reaches for him tentatively. It’s the only hesitant move he’s seen her make, this woman who fires a blaster with instinctive speed and walks sure-footed over wet, slippery terrain. Her fingers brush his hair from his forehead and he feels warmth bloom in his chest, a sensation akin to hope.


End file.
